


Reversed

by Rona23



Series: Merlin´s  magic [37]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Crack, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gwen Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Humor, I was possessed by a demon, M/M, Magic, Merlin does not know about Merlin's magic, Merlin is a Little Shit, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Morgana Knows about Merlin's Magic (Merlin), POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Prince Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), They are forcing me to efüwg#+wek, don't blame me, it actually turns quite dramatic later on, reversed AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:00:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25714702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rona23/pseuds/Rona23
Summary: Everybody knows about Merlin's magic.Everyone but Merlin.A.N.:// if you have seen this prompt on tumblr by changelink, that's me :)
Relationships: Arthur Pendragon & Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin´s  magic [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588378
Comments: 183
Kudos: 729





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This SO needs more chapters. I gotta make another shenanigan one.  
> I will work on the eternal suffering too. But since I am a little out of motivation (I have very long, very different phases of productivity.), have some crack.  
> Don't read crack and drive guys, girls and nonbinary pals.

„Merlin – you have been accused of sorcery.“  
This sentence can be used quite often to begin a story. Mostly, because we all crave magic reveal AU's. One final episode of a journey with our favorite characters dying just isn't enough. Looking at you, BBC. 

However, for Arthur, this sentence often started a normal Wednesday afternoon.  
You think that's strange?  
Well – Strange has become Arthur's new normal. Weird was making his breakfast and catastrophe's were about as rare as horse dung on the cobblestone road. Which was not rare, for those of you who live in futuristic homes where the floor somehow manages to clean itself.

“Again?”

Yes – again. 

“Merlin, seriously, you need to be careful. You live in Camelot. You need to stop using magic like that!”, Arthur threw up his hands. 

Actually, what point was there in wearing chain mail on a day to day basis (he just returned from training), when it didn't even intimidate his uselessly magical servant?  
Even before Merlin answered, Arthur knew what the answer was going to be.

“For the last time, Arthur.”, Merlin let the rug fall that he just used to wipe the floor.  
“I am NOT a sorcerer.”  
Arthur covered his face with his hands, but didn't stop pacing. It would be a lot funnier, if Merlin wasn't a hundred percent serious.

“Merlin, for the last time. YES, you do have magic! The dragon in the dungeons was very clear on the subject. You are Emrys. The most powerful sorcerer who ever lived. And you are destined to help me build Albion.”

“And I am telling YOU, I am very concerned that you still believe the words of a talking dragon, even though he attacked this kingdom when he was still free.”

“He gave me a magic sword that kills magical beasts!”

“He's manipulating you to free him. SO he can attack Camelot - AGAIN!”, Merlin rolled his eyes.  
“Look, Arthur. I know it's a real feast for your ego to be told you're a legend king or something. But this dragon is blowing a lot of stuff way out of proportion.  
I am training to be a physician. I am NOT a sorcerer.”

“Merlin, last week you cleaned my socks with magic.”

“That's circumstantial. There was a sorcerer attacking you. I bet he did it.”  
“Why the hell would a sorcerer clean my socks?”  
Merlin gave him a deadpanned look. “Have you ever smelled your socks, Sire?”

“Why are you smelling my socks?”, there was a moment of confused silence, before Arthur decided to drop the subject and move on.  
“Merlin, you freaking threw a Griffin against a wall and killed it with your magic.”

“That Griffin had wings, Arthur.”

“Which I cut off with Excalibur!!!! BEFORE you threw him against the wall!”, Arthur threw up his hands again. 

“Griffin's are magical creatures. Maybe they don't need wings to fly? How would I know? I never learned any magic!”

“Your eyes were golden!”

“Trick of the light.”, Merlin closed his eyes and sighed.  
“Just – Arthur, please. Tell your dad the usual. That I didn't do it, because I am too stupid to use magic or whatever.”

“I can't cover for you forever, Merlin! You need to be more careful – you -  
Are you kidding me?”

Arthur felt exhausted, as he watched Merlin walk around the rug, that was magically continuing to scrub the floor right now.  
“What?”, Merlin asked him, eyes tilted. The gold so obviously visible in his eyes, if Uther Pendragon was here now, in this room, the servant would have been killed on sight. 

Seriously, the only reason this guy was still alive, was because for some reason Uther couldn't find any proof that Merlin had magic. Which was ridiculous, really. Merlin used magic every single day and at every second he spend in the Castle. It was a wonder he left almost no trail, allegedly (Arthur cleaned up after him).  
Arthur knew about the magic. The knights knew. Uther knew. It was just very hard to proof, when Merlin was so utterly convinced that he DIDN'T have magic. And since he never tried to attack anyone - and the knights and the council loved him for some reason (his magic tended to grand people flowers or cupcakes, whenever they agreed with Arthur on literally any topic), Uther couldn't condemn Merlin to death without risking that he was usurped by his own people.

“Merlin. You're using magic right now.”, Arthur said and closed his eyes. 

“I don't know what you're talking about.”, Merlin said comically, the rug still scrubbing the floor, while Merlin continued to make the bed. 

“The rug.”, Arthur said and pointed at the thing that was now wiping and wiping and wiping – all on it's own.

“What's with the rug?”, Merlin asked, honestly confused, giving the living object a confused look.  
“It's still cleaning.”  
“Yeah so?”  
“Merlin, rugs don't clean the floor by themselves.”  
“This one seems to enjoy it though?” Merlin tilted his head, eyes wide open for some reason. He looked like a cow. 

“And since when do rugs tell you what they like to do?”, Arthur tried to argue. Honestly, why was he still trying?  
“Since … forever?”

Arthur almost lost it. “RUGS. DON'T. TALK! They don't move on their own. They lay where they are left and nobody, literally nobody can convince them otherwise.”

Merlin seemed to consider this for a full minute. “You know, maybe they just don't like you and that's why they play dead whenever you enter the room.”

“Or -”, Arthur hissed back. “You have magic and that makes them alive!”

Merlin laughed. “Well, then I must have had magic since I was born.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “Yes. Yes, you do.”

Merlin stared at him. Then shook his head. “No. That's not possible.”  
“Well, apparently it is.”  
“No. I talked to Gaius. He told me I don't have magic. And he would know.”

“Gaius is lying. He's told Morgana she has nightmares, even though it's obvious she's seeing the future. He's telling you the supernatural around you happening is natural. It's not. You have magic, Merlin.”

“OOR, hypothesis B, you're just narcissistic and enjoy the idea of being special. Which you aren`t, in spite of your royal title. You're just a prat.”

“I am not -”, Arthur blew out hot air threw his nose. “If I was narcissistic, why the hell would I ask YOU to help me built Albion?”

Finally Merlin stopped straightening Arthur's bed sheets. “You know – that is a good question.”  
There was a pause, where Arthur almost thought he had won, when Merlin managed to find an analytic response. 

“Maybe you're just jealous of the fact that people like me and I am extremely lucky in battles, so you portray me as some overpowered magical guru -”, he wiggled his hands at the word magical,  
“-who is apparently supposed to obey you and listen to your every whim, so you feel satisfied in your over proportional desire to be worshiped.”

Arthur's lips parted. This must be how it felt to be crushed. You know what – no. This is what it felt like to be burned. (It was this moment that Arthur unconsciously invented that metaphor.)  
“Merlin, I am being serious. We don't have time for this. Your execution has been scheduled for in an hour.

Merlin blinked. “Well, YOU'RE the one trying to convince me that I'm guilty and wasting my time with pointless accusations.”  
Merlin stemmed his hands into his hips. If this wasn't a weekly repeated scenario, Arthur was pretty sure Merlin wouldn't be so calm right now. One talk with Uther and his sentence would be lessened anyway. As long as Arthur kept keeping his useless father of a king in check.

In fact – the first time Merlin was suspected of sorcery was because the guy himself confessed to have it, only to save Gwen from the pyre.  
Obviously Arthur had covered for him and promised him to keep his magic secret. Merlin had then been trying to confess that he actually didn't have magic.  
That was when Arthur had finally decided to bring him to the Dragon – who – as you already know – told Merlin that he did - in fact – have magic. 

As Arthur knew from the moment he met Merlin, because the guy was far too lucky escaping his maze swings upon their first fight.  
Also it was kind of unbelievable that a rope had accidentally tied itself around Arthur's ankle. Nineteen times.  
Still – Arthur would have wished that dragon hadn't warned him all these years ago. That riddling lizard had just made it harder to talk sense into Merlin. Because Merlin had some very good arguments regarding the nature of that self centered lying dragon thing who had tried to kill people on multiple occasions. (Arthur understood the dragon's reasoning. But it wasn't enough to convince Merlin.)

'It's your destiny to help Emrys understand magic.', sounded a lot easier, before Arthur realized that “help understand” didn't mean proof or conviction or make believe. Heck, Arthur hadn't even figured out what “help understand” meant at all.

For now, all Arthur could help Merlin with was survive Uther Pendragon's wrath. 

\----------------------------

“For the lack of proof, your sentence is hereby renounced to banishment. You will leave tomorrow and never come back. If you do – the pyre will be lit for you.”  
“Father, please...!”, at this point, Arthur found this sounded like a catch phrase.  
“Arthur, stay out of this.”

“No, please listen. Merlin has done absolutely nothing to deserve this!”  
“He set – the castle – on fire!”  
“That was an accident and NOT magic related.”, Arthur debated, used to Uther's antics. It was true – Merlin had just accidentally spilled a cooking pan full of oil into a lit chimney. That did not happen on purpose. In fact – Merlin's magic had probably prevented the Castle staff from burning alive. 

“Apparently nothing he does is magic related, according to you and the council and -”, Uther was shaken with anger and frustration. The last one Arthur was totally on board with. 

Merlin just stood there like a dog who had been ordered to stay and wait. He had absolutely no idea what was actually going on, but he had obviously done something bad, or else Uther wouldn't be shouting. But Arthur was defending him, so maybe he had still been a good boy?

The entire situation was ridiculous and abstract.  
“Fine. Fine. Alright. You wanna banish my servant? I WILL go with him.”, Arthur finally decided.  
“I'm afraid you'll have to banish me too, father.”

Merlin and Uther both stared at the prince like he had just gone mad.  
“What? Why?”, Merlin exclaimed.  
“You are a PRINCE, Arthur! Have you no pride!”, Uther said at the same time. 

“I am and I do! Merlin is innocent. And he is my servant and I trust him with my life. I am responsible for him and if you banish him, that means I have to suffer the consequences as well.”

“You know exactly that's not how the law works.”, Uther deadpanned, while Arthur crossed his arms rebelliously.  
“Well then. I suggest you find yourself a new heir. Oh wait, I forgot. You can't get one without killing your own wife and condemning an entire dynasty to fall.”  
It was drop dead silent in the throne room after that. A dangerous glint was playing in Arthur's eyes, daring Uther to proof him wrong. Which the king was unable to do so. 

“Oh snap.”, Merlin mouthed to himself. 

Yes. Arthur knew that what Morgouse said was true. Uther was a friggin monster. And if Merlin hadn't stopped Arthur from killing his own father by trying to make him believe the witch was lying, he totally would have killed him.  
However, Arthur eventually realized that he could never be a good king, if he became one by practicing patricide. That's what Merlin had warned him of. 

Ever since then, Arthur had done what he could to fulfill the prophecy. To no avail, as you probably know. Magic wouldn't come back to Camelot, unless Merlin understood that he had it.  
Anyway – Arthur and his father had been dancing on thin ice around each other ever since the Morgouse incident.  
And now that Uther was repetitively trying to strangle Merlin (quite literally), Arthur has had enough. 

Nobody was as innocent and good as Merlin was. He may be magic, but Arthur had long learned that that didn't play into the factor of evilness at all. If anything it only made Merlin clumsier and more oblivious of his own health and self perseverance.  
Like hell Arthur was leaving this boy wandering alone in the woods. He wouldn't survive a single day!  
(He also accidentally kept saving Arthur's life and Arthur was kind of afraid he would end up dead within a week if Merlin left. Not that he would ever admit to it.)

Uther was enraged now, as he dangerously rose from his seat. “Excuse you!”  
Arthur sighed. This conversation was completely pointless. He was arguing against the king of Camelot. Like hell he had a chance of winning. The only thing keeping Arthur from being executed was the fact that he was Uther's only son. 

“Merlin and I will go to Ealdor for a couple of weeks until you've come to your senses and let us come back to the court.  
Merlin, go prepare the horses.”  
Merlin stared at Arthur, then he nodded and pointed his head towards the window. Suddenly his eyes glowed golden. Right in front of the king no less. Arthur groaned inwardly.  
“The horses say they'll be ready in an hour.”

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand.  
“Did you see that! That was magic! Arthur, you MUST realize -.”  
Arthur just shook his head, grabbed Merlin by the neck and shoved him out the door.  
“You-”, he turned one more time to point at his dad. “-have no proof.”

With that they disappeared out the door. Leaving Uther Pendragon flabbergasted in the middle of an empty room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UFF, I know it's been a while. BUT!   
> It's kinda hard to figure out how to continue this. Also I've hit a motivation low that I haven't had in forever. It's not even writers block. I do have ideas... just none that actually excite me. And none for Merlin for some reason. The same counts for art at the moment. Which also sucks.  
> Actually, nothing really excites me lately. Everything more than nice passes in like an hour. Dunno why. It's nothing concerning. It's just a constant neutral - okay feeling and it's annoying XD  
> It's like wanting to read something in particular. But you don't know what it is, and if it doesn't hit immediately ... I have to stop. In an instant. Doesn't help that I have like.... 5 wips open currently.   
> ..... whatever. I hope you enjoy this chapter more than I did :)

“I still don't understand why you have to go with me.”, Merlin loudly complained. They were in the middle of the woods and this conversation had been circling over their heads since they left Camelot behind.   
“Because you refuse to accept that you have magic. Therefore you don't know how to use it, which makes you defenseless.   
Ergo – you need someone skilled with a sword to defend you.”

“I'm pretty certain your sword is doing more damage than you are.”, Merlin retorted angrily and corrected the way the bag sat on his shoulders. As usual, he was carrying more than his prince did.   
What did Arthur need a servant for, if the servant couldn't even do that much?   
“You talking to swords now?”

“No. I'm just a very observant person. I don't know if you've noticed – but it's the sword that is sharp enough to cut things. YOU are not.”

Arthur stopped in his tracks and licked his dry mouth, before he turned to his useless servant.   
“Was that an insult? I have you know, I KNOW how to wield a sword. You need to be sharp to use it right. Not that you'd understand.”

“Oh, I understand just fine. I'm just saying an idiot can wield a sword just fine. You're just my best example. And you are pretty dull.”  
“You couldn't wield a sword if your life depended on it, Merlin.”  
“No, I'm pretty sure I can. Look. I can do it a lot safer too.”

Arthur had hardly a second to respond, when Merlin's eyes were glowing yellow again and Arthur's sword unsheathed itself. It flew through the air, swinging around dangerously.   
“What the fuck, Merlin. Put that down!”, Arthur exclaimed, barely dodging one of those swings. 

If they had their horses with them, Arthur knew they would have run off by this point. You're wondering where the horses are?  
Well.... Uther, as the fantastic father that he was, had decided that Merlin didn't deserve to take one of the pricey horses with him. He was BANNED from Camelot. Not on a mission.   
And since Arthur had said that Merlin's punishment should equal his own, Arthur himself wasn't allowed to take a horse either.   
So instead of riding their way to Ealdor in what would have been two days... they were now stuck walking the entire way. Through the woods that were full of bandits and thieves.   
But what did the king care that his only son was practically defenseless? And riding with a sorcerer no less. Father of the year. The man deserved a medal. 

“Why? You wanted me to show you that I can hold a sword.”  
“How on earth can't you see that you're using magic right now!”, Arthur basically screamed as he pointed at the flying sword. 

Merlin huffed. “Not that again. I just picked it up!”  
“Merlin, what the fuck.”  
“What? I don't understand why you hold the sword so close to yourself. It's far safer if you do it like this. Are you stupid or something?” As if on cue, his eyes glowed brighter and the sword waved around once more, just a bit further in the distance.   
Arthur ducked at the sight. 

“That would be, because I can't pick that thing up when I'm not touching it. You're using MAGIC to hold it.”  
Merlin huffed. “How many times do I have to tell you – I don't have magic.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Are you kidding me?”

“What? So you can't pick up a sword from a safe distance? That just means you're not as athletic as you think. Just because you're incapable of doing something doesn't make everyone who can a wizard.”

Arthur held in a breath. This was almost funny. Almost. “Honestly Merlin. Who the fuck raised you?”  
“Duh, my mom.”, Merlin shook his head and let the sword fall to his side. Hesitantly, as if the sword would move again in merely a second (which with Merlin around, it totally could), Arthur picked it up. To be safe, he stepped on it first. 

“It's not going to attack you.”, Merlin rolled his eyes.   
“With you around? I HAVE to doubt that.”  
“Screw you. I would never hurt you.”, Merlin sighed and shook his head. Somehow he looked a little defeated in the dimming light of the day.   
Arthur stopped in his tracks at that and his annoyed expression softened.   
“I know that.”, he muttered and ruffled Merlin's hair. “Let's make up camp for tonight.”

\---------------------------

“So.... magic huh?”, Merlin wiggled his eyebrows at Arthur. Who was currently busy adding wood to the fire so it would last them the night.   
“What?”, Arthur asked, completely dumbfounded what Merlin may be hinting at.   
“Oh come on. You know what I mean. You like magic. You're practically obsessed with it. Come on. Tell me what you're trying to accomplish.  
You've been setting me up as a wizard since I came to Camelot. Even though you know magic is illegal. And you've been – what do you call it again?-”, Merlin used air quotes for the next few words. “'protecting' me from your father ever since.  
Now we've been send away for a few days, until your father realizes how stupid his accusations are. We go meet my mom. All alone in the woods...  
You -”, he poked at Arthur's chest. “You want to spend some alone time with me.”

He wiggled his eyebrows again, grinning like an idiot.   
Arthur opened his mouth to respond. But quite frankly, he had no answer for this.   
“You think I'm courting you?”, he asked after some time. When his head had finally wrapped itself around the implications that Merlin was sending him.   
Needless to say, his eyes were practically falling out of their sockets. 

“Why else would you accuse me of using magic?”, Merlin was still grinning. And it was so dark and the fire so bright that every angle of his face seemed sharper and more threatening in the shine of the flickering flames. Also more beautiful.   
Though – Arthur decided – he was not going to prove Merlin's suspicions with such treacherous thoughts. 

“Merlin, I'm not kidding with you. You DO have magic! How on earth can't you see it?”, Arthur took a deep breath and hid his face in his hands.   
“What on earth do you even believe magic IS?”, Arthur wasn't looking at Merlin. He was staring far ahead into the shadows of the bushes surrounding them.   
He was well aware of each of Merlin's movements though. 

“Magic doesn't exist, Arthur.”, Merlin laughed and shook his head. Like Arthur was nothing but a child to him. But the prince, slightly disturbed by that sentence, released his face from his hands and slowly – very pointedly slowly, turned around to face his servant.   
“What?”, he let out, feeling his IQ drop by so much stupidity. 

Merlin laughed again. “Oh, seriously Arthur. People don't just say Hokus Pokus and suddenly the whole world bows to them.  
It's all science.”

“Just yesterday you said magic was evil and forbidden!”

“Of course I did. We were in Camelot.”, Merlin rolled his eyes. “And we both know your father is an idiot. With idiotic rules and laws.” 

“Merlin.... you can't explain everything you do with Science.”  
“You can't explain everything you don't understand with magic.”  
The held each other's gazes for another few moments. 

“See!”, Merlin pointed at Arthur's eyes now. “You're doing that thing again!”  
Arthur moved back. “What thing?”, he grabbed for his face, like there was something on it he could wipe away. But really, he had no idea what he was searching for.   
“That thing, where you stare at me like that.”  
“Like what?”  
“That eye fuckery.”

Arthur couldn't stop himself. He bend over from laughter. Wheezing from the incredulous look on Merlin's face. “Oh please, say that again.”, Arthur managed to cough out.   
Merlin's mouth twitched a bit. But he tried to remain firm.   
“I'm serious. That's why you came with me, right?”

“To eye fuck you? Oh god -”, Arthur couldn't help himself. He rolled from the mat he was sitting on, laughing into the cold ground.   
He could feel his rip cage hitting against something uneven. Probably a root from a tree. That wasn't enough for him to roll back on his back though.   
He came to a halt, staring at the stars. It was strange how everything dark was illuminated by the fire in their midst. 

Small freckles of light glimmering and disappearing into the stillness of the night.   
Arthur could feel his ribcage moving up and down with every cool breath he took. Slowly his laughter died down.   
“Merlin.”, he finally said, knowing that Merlin was probably pouting right now. 

“Yes?”, he did sound a lot less amused than before. 

“My father knows you have magic and he wants you dead. I'm here to make sure you're safe. And to make you understand what magic truly is, because it needs to return to Albion, if we ever want peace in this land.   
How am I supposed to do that, if you don't even believe that magic exists?”

It was quiet now. Arthur could count his own heartbeats, until suddenly he heard something shifting and soon Merlin lay down next to him.   
His feet where Arthur's head was. His head at Arthur's feet. 

“Why do you trust that dragon?”, Merlin asked quietly. “I've told you several reasons why he's most likely lying.”  
“I don't trust him.”, Arthur argued and heard Merlin scoffing. “That doesn't mean I don't believe him. The druids seem to know about this prophecy. The one that you deny exists.”

“Oh don't remind me of the druids. They keep talking to me in my head and bowing, like I was some kind of messiah.”  
Arthur didn't need to see Merlin to know he was rolling his eyes. 

“You do realize that only people with magic can talk to each other with their minds, right?”, Arthur sighed.   
“It's called telepathy, Arthur. It's pretty common.”  
Arthur kicked him with his foot.   
“HEY!”, Merlin exclaimed, but Arthur just shook his head. “Magic is more common than you think, MERlin.”

“So then … what exactly IS magic, anyway?”, Merlin sighed. “You keep telling me I have it. But how exactly would you know? Do YOU have magic?”  
“NO.”  
“Then how do you know what it is?”, Merlin sat up and looked at Arthur now. The fire light flickering in his eyes.   
Arthur looked at him in thought, before he answered. 

“I don't really know. I can't tell who has it, unless they use it. And I told you. Magic is telepathy, it's letting things fly without using your hands. It's using ancient words and letting things explode with it. That's all I know.”  
“So it never occurred to you that these things have logical explanations perhaps?”

Arthur sat up too.   
“Okay. Go ahead. Explain.”, he gestured at Merlin to show him. 

Merlin let his head fall into a nod, before he pointed at the fire. And soon enough it formed a dragon, flying around realistically.   
Eyes wide, Arthur followed the creature amazed.   
“So. What I just did was I feel the heat and the light within that fire and ask it to form itself. And then it does. That's all. There is nothing magic about this.”

Arthur chuckled a little, but watched the creature with pure fascination anyway.   
“Everything about this is magic.”, he breathed back. 

Merlin sighed and let the creature fly back into the fire pit. “It's not, Arthur. It's me talking to nature.”  
Arthur sat up fully now. Disappointed that the light was gone.   
“Merlin.”, he said and watched as Merlin crossed his arms.   
“Talking to nature the way you do – that IS magic. I don't know how you do it. But it's like you have this sixth sense, or limb or something that connects you to all of this -”, Arthur stretched out his arms and waved them around.   
Merlin's eyes wandered around. But he looked irritated, more than understanding. 

“You think magic is a limb?”, he asked almost humorlessly.   
Arthur huffed. “I think? I don't have magic, Merlin. How am I supposed to know what is or isn't the right allegory?”  
“Neither do I!”, Merlin shouted back. 

They stared at each other for a moment, then they let themselves fall back into the leafs.  
This was going to be a long ride to Ealdor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading and leaving comments and kudos on these chapters.   
> They make me so happy!!!!!  
> A special shoutout to Yvion who donated a very special conversation to this chapter ^^ (I left a note on the passage)  
> It took me a while to figure out how to include it, but I think it turned out pretty great :)
> 
> Well. Enough of the foreplay, have fun ^^

It was pouring. Like – imagine someone threw over a bathtub of water over your head – pouring.   
“Beautiful, isn't it?”, asked Merlin, as they sat uselessly stuck inside a cave.   
They were just sheltering themselves from the rain. That didn't mean they weren't already and completely soaked through.   
Merlin had been sensible enough to call for a fire, so they wouldn't freeze to death.   
And once more, Arthur could only shake his head at the golden eyes. Which, according to his father, caused nothing but death and destruction. And according to Merlin – didn't exist.   
Instead, they offered comfort and warmth. Merlin was smiling at the sky. 

Arthur watched him silently. This cave somehow asked for a more quiet approach on the whole magic thing. It felt more sensible that way. 

But there was something in Merlin's glance, in the fondness in his smile and the distracted look in his eyes that made Arthur wonder, if maybe the rain truly was beautiful. Or if it was just the way it affected Merlin.   
And while he felt himself drying up faster than what would be considered normal, (probably Merlin's subconscious influence), and a freshly made hot tea in his grasp (wherever Merlin had found the cup), he considered that perhaps, it kind of was. Beautiful. The comfort of being sheltered. And warm. And save. The comfort of being in Merlin's presence. 

“Magical.”, Arthur joked fondly, as he watched Merlin's mesmerized expression. 

Merlin's smile turned into confusion.   
“You do know how rain works, right?”, he turned his head. Disappointed and shocked by how stupid Arthur made himself look. Allegedly.   
Arthur snorted. “Yes. Despite what you may believe, MERlin, I'm not THAT stupid.”

“But you admit that you're stupid.”, Merlin laughed and barely managed to escape the small punch that Arthur threw his way.   
For a moment they both laughed. Merlin shook his head.   
“Just to clarify, it's not magic.”

Arthur laughed even louder. “Yes, I KNOW, Merlin! I know it's science. It still looks magical though.”  
'You look magical.', he didn't say. 

In that very moment a shattering noise vibrated against the cave walls. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled in the sky.   
Other than Arthur, however, who jerked away under the sudden noise, Merlin didn't even blink.   
He just stared into the rain, like his ears were completely numb to anything else. 

“That – makes no sense.”, said Merlin. But his eyes were squished together, like he was thinking about something, but Arthur wasn't sure what that was.   
“What?”, Arthur shrugged of his initial jump scare and turned back to Merlin.   
“How can the weather be science AND magical?”, Merlin asked and finally turned back to Arthur. 

Arthur stared at him confused. “I don't know? It just is? I mean, it looks magical. Like, when you look at the stars at night and they are absolutely beautiful.   
Or the way the air smells right now. Or – I don't know. Have you ever been in love?  
Smells, looks, chemicals in your brain, whatever. They can be explained, sure. But you can feel it deep inside, right?  
And that's- that's not really magic, I know. But it feels LIKE magic. You know what I mean?”  
Arthur shrugged. 

Merlin stared at him.   
Then he blinked, but he wasn't moving still. Arthur sighed. “It ISN'T magic, Merlin. It's just a comparison.”, he rolled his eyes. Still no response. “No? You're not getting it?”

But Merlin was still looking at him.   
Arthur sighed again, this time a bit more exasperated. “I see you use magic all the time. Watching you feels kind of like that. Which is why I can't hate it. No matter what my father believes. You look too innocent and happy when you use it.”

Merlin tilted his head. “You feel like you're in love when you look at me?”

It was quiet again. Slowly the pouring became slower and more quiet and here and there you could see the sky clearing up already.  
“You should seriously get your head checked, Merlin. I said, looking at your magic feels like looking at the stars.”  
Arthur said slowly, but his heart rate betrayed him. Not that Merlin needed to know that. 

“But you said, it's the same feeling you get when you're looking at someone you love.”  
“I said, it's similar. Magic and love, I mean.”, Arthur was getting frustrated. Why did Merlin have to tease him like that?

Then Merlin's grin faded a little. “Wait – just yesterday you said I AM magic!”  
Arthur opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then tried to remember when he had ever said that. Only to realize that yes – he had indeed said that.   
Because that blasted Dragon had said it too. Merlin WAS magic. Literally made of the stuff. Whatever that meant. 

Merlin grinned again. “Maybe you just tell yourself I'm magic, because you actually LIKE me. And you confuse love with magic.”  
Arthur stared back at him. And if he wasn't so used to Merlin's useless banter, he couldn't have been so composed right now.   
Merlin's eyes blinked playfully, like he was expecting Arthur to say something. Anything really. But Arthur didn't know what the other boy was expecting, really.   
How many more times could Arthur deflect this question, without actually denying it?  
How many times could he force himself to lie?

At first, Arthur had protected Merlin for the sake of the prophecy. But with time, he had realized how much fun it was to be around Merlin. And eventually, with his attention completely drawn to him, he slowly fell for him.   
It wasn't like he had a choice in it. Or like he had planned for it to happen. It did, however. And now Arthur was stuck clinging to everything he ever learned from his father in regards of not showing any kind of emotion – because that was quite frankly the only thing his father ever managed to teach him – to not show this idiot of a sorcerer how important he was to him. 

Arthur was already working against anything else his father had ever taught him. If he could fight against the stigma's of magic and the rules about commoners becoming nobles and stuff – surely he could fight against the stupidity that was his fathers views about loving servants.   
This fight, however, was easier said than fought.   
Because Merlin didn't even know who he was yet. What he was made of. How everything he did affected the world and Arthur.   
Arthur couldn't confess to him like that. IF he ever could at all. With all the jokes Merlin tended to make on his behalf.   
They fought about everything almost all the time. Okay – admittedly that was friendly banter and bickering – still. They argued a lot. 

“Arthur?”, Merlin tilted his head in mild alarm.   
“I'm not confused, Merlin.”, Arthur said.   
Merlin, however, seemed to be reading something in Arthur's eyes. “Wait – does that mean -”

“We should get going soon. The sun is coming through.”, Arthur deflected the situation.   
He wasn't going to lie now. But this wasn't the right time to talk about it either. He wasn't ready. His mind asked him if by 'he', he meant Merlin or himself.

Merlin looked at Arthur wordlessly for a second, before he bit his lip and the sky truly did clear up.   
For a second, Arthur wondered, if maybe this had been influenced by Merlin's mood. Of if that was wishful thinking on his own behalf. Because if the thought of Arthur loving him made Merlin clear up the sky -  
maybe there was hope for them after all.

\---------------------

“Do you remember those times when you were enchanted by that jester and they gave you that love potion to fall in love with Vivian?”, Merlin asked all of a sudden.   
They were on their feet again. Merlin stumbled after Arthur, each step seeming to become more of a hindrance to him.   
Something in the air was different. 

Arthur snorted but kept going. “Quite frankly, no Merlin. I was under the influence of the love potion. As you pointed out so perfectly.   
Which means, I don't remember a thing. Why?”

“I went and talked to the dragon for help back then. And he said there was only one way to save you.” Arthur shook his head before he answered, a bit surprised to know Merlin sought out the Dragon for help. Of all people- (He laughed mentally.... People). He brushed away a branch that he knew would slap Merlin in the face.   
The light “OW” from behind was the perfect confirmation and it made his smile twitch into a grin.

“Let me guess. Magic. Which you decided you couldn't help with.”, Arthur said and only now decided to stop. Making Merlin bump into him. Which in turn, almost made Arthur fall. If he wasn't a knight and therefore a lot sturdier than the fickle servant behind him.   
“Speaking of which – you never told me how you saved my life then.”

“Why do you assume that I saved your life?”, Merlin frowned, but couldn't help the blush at so much faith that Arthur had in his limited abilities. Which weren't as limited as he believed.   
“You always do.”, Arthur shrugged and finally faced his servant. 

“Well – the dragon said that there was only one kind of magic that could save you.”, Merlin lowered his head a bit at that. Clearly shy of what he was trying to say next.   
“Did you tell him to fuck off? Oh I would love to know how that order works, when the Dragon HAS to obey.”, Arthur stifled a laugh at the mental image.

Merlin rolled his eyes, if still with a lot less enthusiasm as he usually did.   
“For the last time, I'm not a Dragon Lord. Just because I managed to convince him to leave Camelot alone that ONE time, doesn't mean it always works. He's most likely going to roast me alive! Next time, YOU go and talk to him. You know – like CIVILIZED people. Instead of sending your poor servant out to DIE!” (A.N.: This exchange was brought to you by Yvion. Thank you so much, I really loved your comment :) Thank you for letting me use your idea. I hope you don't mind me altering it a bit to fit the story line a bit better ^^)

Arthur laughed and finally turned to Merlin with a giant grin on his face.   
“Alright, fine I get it. What did he say? What kind of magic that you don't have were you supposed to use on me?”

Merlin flushed and straightened up. “Actually -”, Merlin averted his eyes only to frantically look around and return his glance to Arthur's eyes again and again.   
It did look ridiculous, to be honest.  
“He said the only magic that could safe you was a true love's kiss.”

Arthur blinked. Then laughed a little. Then he ran his hand through his hair, unsure of what to say. Or what to think really.   
As a result, nobody said anything for a couple of seconds. Or was it minutes? Or hours? Arthur wasn't counting. This conversation turned really awkward real quick.

“Ok, hold on a second. What the fuck does that mean? Does that mean someone who truly loves me has to kiss me? Or someone I truly love? Or someone who just truly loves kissing, because Merlin – you didn't make Gwaine kiss me, did you?”, Arthur covered his mouth, his eye twitching at the thought. Only to break out laughing at Merlin's startled expression. (Of course, Arthur knew the last part was least likely to be what the Dragon meant. But it was a fun thought anyway. Except if Merlin actually considered that back then and Gwaine actually – Arthur laughed even harder at the thought.)

“The dragon said it needs to be someone who YOU truly love.”, Merlin clarified.

There was another pause.   
It smelled like raspberries.   
And that was a weirdly distracting and sudden realization that had absolutely nothing to do with their current situation.   
Arthur shook his head a bit. Anyway....

“And?”, Arthur pressed his lips together. Did Merlin kiss him - back then? Did he make the entire castle kiss him first? THAT would be weird. But if that had happened, Arthur would have heard the gossip, right?  
“Well... the point is that he said that love IS magic. Earlier you said, they were alike. But the Dragon said love is a type of magic.”, Merlin rambled on. 

Arthur groaned. “That's your point? Seriously?”, he muttered to himself.   
Would he ever find out who kissed him then? Who saved him? Did he WANT to know?

“What do you think it means? It's a TYPE of magic? Are there more types than one?”  
Arthur sighed. “I honestly don't know, Merlin. The Dragon also said that you ARE magic. Maybe magic is just everything that you are? Or everything about you is magic.   
I have absolutely now idea.”

This was probably the first time that Merlin took his suggestion seriously.   
“You think I am love?” His eyes flicked up curiously and deep in thought, as he met Arthur's gaze.   
There was no humor in them.   
Arthur blinked. Since when wasn't Merlin trying to explain that what Arthur said was utterly stupid and useless? Was he beginning to understand? Was he beginning to consider that he was magic itself? Or was he just curious?  
Either way – all they had were questions and puzzle pieces that didn't seem to fit together.   
It wasn't like either of them had any answers. Or knew what the result would look like.

“Well – you DO seem to love everything around you. Nature, animals, random people. Sometimes you seem to love your job. Which is weird, by the way.   
You practically radiate the stuff. You're a little ray of sunshine. Don't look at me like that, those are Gwen's words, not mine.”  
Arthur rolled his eyes, as Merlin nodded his head back in surprise at the comparison. 

“But you said, you don't have magic. If you have a true love, than you have magic too, right?”

It was quiet again, as Arthur tried to consider this.   
Then he slowly nodded, chin cupped by his own hand in thought. “You know what? – maybe you're right. Maybe I DO have some kind of magic after all.”

With that thought, he turned around and kept marching.   
Merlin stumbled after him again, a little confused. “You think so?”, he asked, but Arthur never responded.   
Neither of them noticed how with each step, the earth practically lit up beneath Merlin's feet.   
Far far in the distance however – the grass began to die out.   
And while Merlin's person – his very essence - grew brighter and brighter – the world around them began to dry out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so before you guys kill me.....  
> I had planned this to work out the exact opposite way. But I am in love with this idea. Not sure if it quite fits everything else, but whatever.   
> Also.... have some Hunith :)

The thing was ….. the world hadn't always been like this.   
Evil sorcerers, witches, warlocks – angry magical creatures, you get it...   
It wasn't always like this. 

Uther Pendragon was the cause of all this misery. That was not a secret.   
The pyre had been lit so many times – the ashes of innocent people distributed farther and wider than food over the lands.   
The wind whispered the names of the forsaken who had been hung. For only the air to bear witness to their demise.   
The water wailed at every drunken song of drowning children and the night covered the bodies of those who rotted in their cells. Too starved to live long enough to hear their own death sentence. 

Feasts were held in honor of the soldiers who murdered the creatures that were born to bring beauty and balance to the world. Prices covered the castle walls. Heads of mighty creatures that protected the weak and the poor. 

Love and kindness was dying in the land. With Uther at the head of the regime – hope was lost. 

It was then, that magic had decided it needed a conscience. A mind that could save them all. And so it was born in form of a child.   
A child who had never asked for this burden. A child who loved and cared and radiated magic.   
But something went wrong.  
And suddenly magic was dying. And it kept dying, because the purge was not over yet.

And with time – while the child kept spreading love and peace and kindness – everything around him still died.   
Everything he was connected to, everything he was bound to save, craving for him, like for water in the desert. That is how starved the world was for him.   
What do you think happens, when you are the oases that could safe the world? What happens, when even YOU start to believe you're nothing but an illusion?

\-------------------------------------------------

Arthur and Merlin were about a mile from Ealdor, when Merlin broke down.   
Arthur would later curse himself that he didn't notice it earlier. That he didn't notice immediately how Merlin fell to the ground.   
A slight dumping sound the only warning Arthur had. He didn't have time to catch his friend. 

He was barely fast enough to see Merlin's eyes flicker golden, before completely dying out.   
The blue of his irises rolled up behind their eyelids, when Arthur finally managed to get to him.   
“Merlin? MERLIN!”, Arthur shouted.   
He fell to his knees and tried to shake Merlin awake again. 

When that apparently didn't do anything, he slapped him in the face.   
“MERLIN! God DAMN it! Can you hear me?”  
Rapid breaths, panic and fear and adrenaline filled Arthur's mind and heart. It stopped him from thinking clearly. Every sound in his ear suddenly numb, as all he could focus on was how pale Merlin looked. 

How on EARTH hadn't he noticed sooner?  
Just an hour ago he had been wondering how often Merlin was stumbling over roots again. He had dismissed it as Merlin's usual clumsiness, but maybe it had been a sign?  
Maybe Arthur had just been to ignorant to notice?

Arthur tried to calm down. What was it that he was supposed to do in a situation like this?  
Right – right....

He held three fingers to Merlin's neck. Hoping and praying that the heartbeat he felt wasn't his own. Because the adrenaline pumping inside his head told him that HE was clearly alive.   
But Arthur didn't care about that right now.   
Cursing under his breath, Arthur drew his sword and held it over Merlin's open mouth. And let out a relieved breath, when he could see the blank metal fog up slightly. 

Arthur was far away from being a physician. And his mind was running wild with the different lectures Gaius should have given him or that Arthur didn't listen to.   
He should go and call for help. But he wasn't allowed to leave Merlin behind.   
Was it okay to pick him up? Or would that make it worse?!  
Was he supposed to wait until Merlin woke up or stopped breathing or -

In a way – Arthur was lucky that Merlin only broke down now. If he had done so two days ago – there was no way Arthur could have picked him up and run – run into the next village.   
Who cares if Arthur was supposed to run with Merlin over his shoulder?  
It was one mile he had to run. And this was faster than leaving Merlin behind to die. 

Arthur doesn't think he had ever managed to run this fast for so long in his entire life. With such heavy weight on his back too!  
Not that he got enough oxygen into his brain to think anything other than: “Help! Help Merlin!”  
He faintly noticed his legs bending under the weight, his own lungs begging and craving for air.   
His rips and heart feeling like they might burst and his side was killing him too.   
But eventually, after an eternity, the village came into sight.   
And he could see Hunith from afar. Surprised to see him, but even more surprised to see and sense the utter panic in Arthur's face. 

Thank god, Hunith was the village's most experienced healer. 

“Arthur? What happened?”, she asked, but in her voice, panic was rising too. 

Arthur, still wheezing instead of breathing, couldn't find it in him to answer.   
She seemed to recognize the symptoms though, as she saw Merlin draped over Arthur's shoulder, face ashen and apparently lifeless.   
“Oh my - Come on, hurry, follow me.”, Hunith as well, paled noticeably.   
Even through the ashes that covered her face from all the hard work on the fields. 

She lead the way into the house that Arthur recognized from their previous visit. Back when Merlin had called a tornado to fight of a couple of bandits.   
Of course Merlin had denied that he called the tornado. And Arthur did intend to ask Hunith then and there, what the fuck was wrong with her child.   
But he never to to it. He forgot, because Will was dying and Merlin was completely broken from the experience.   
Many other towns people had died or been missed and Arthur's head was constantly busy helping to fix things everywhere. So.... it hadn't been the best time to ask yet.   
Destiny loved being a puzzle sometimes. 

Right now... was also not exactly the perfect moment.   
But while Arthur finally let his weight go gently onto the kitchen table, which Hunith rapidly cleared by throwing everything to the ground that ever dared to be on top of it, he finally managed to catch his breath.   
After running for so long, he hadn't managed to check for Merlin's pulse again, but miraculously he was still breathing. 

As if in trance, he watched Hunith do almost exactly what he had done earlier as well.   
She listened on to his breathing, checked his eyes under the eyelids -   
And that's when Arthur saw the rapid golden flashes.   
As if someone was covering and uncovering a candle in rapid speed.   
(You know, like a turning a flashlight on and off again and again. But these are medieval times. For once I didn't forget about that. :) )

“What the hell?”, Arthur asked through heaving breaths and the disgusting feeling of being hot and wet from exercise.   
“You can say that again.”, Hunith's eyebrows were frowned into worry. 

“What's- what does this mean? Is he sick? Is his magic acting up? Are there magical illnesses, or -.... you have to tell me SOMETHING! Is he dying? Will he be okay?”  
Even after a mile of running, Arthur's panic had still not calmed down. His adrenaline wasn't subsiding, and Merlin's body seemed to be getting restless too. 

“Something like that.”, Hunith bit her lip, merely trying to make sure that Merlin wouldn't fall from the table or feel uncomfortable. 

“What does THAT mean?”, Arthur couldn't help it, he was getting louder.   
“It's – it's hard to explain...”  
“Then DO something!”  
“There is nothing I CAN do!”, Hunith turned back to him. Full blown guilt and fear on her face. 

Arthur's heart stopped. “You mean – he's going to die?”  
It was too sudden. This couldn't be it. She must be mistaken. She MUST be!

“No. NO!”, Hunith held up both her hands to calm Arthur down.   
“It's his magic acting up. It's – it's - urgh. How long has he been like this?”

Arthur searched for something in her eyes. Something – anything that may tell him what the fuck was going on. “I don't know? He passed out and I ran here as fast as possible. I didn't think about anything, I just -”, he bit his lip, staring at Merlin.   
It bothered him a lot, that they weren't doing anything for him. At all.

Hunith took a deep breath. “I think you should sit down.”

Arthur blinked. For a moment, he just stood there. Then, slowly, he grabbed for a chair that had fallen to the ground in all the hectic and sat down on it.   
Hunith did the same and folded her hands into her lap, before addressing Arthur again. 

“He's not dying. He's Emrys. He's immortal, he's not going to die in a long, long time.”, she finally said and Arthur took a deep breath of relief, but also sudden dread. 'What do you mean, immortal?' He could feel a cough coming up. His throat felt dry and burning from the exercise.   
Hunith noticed and handed him a flask of water.   
“Then what is happening to him?”

Hunith looked down. “It's complicated.”

“It's not getting less complicated, by not telling me.”, Arthur fidgeted in his position and looked back at his unconscious best friend.

“Merlin is magic.”, she began, causing Arthur to blink. He knew that already. However, he had been wondering, if HUNITH knew that. He only noticed now, that this had been a concern of his before. But Merlin's state had redirected his mind to more important questions.   
Like : will he live? Which apparently …. Merlin will.

“The thing is – it's more than that. Everything that is magic is also connected to Merlin. Magical creatures, sorcerers, everything.   
They give him life and power. And he gives the same in return.   
When Uther started the purge, he killed thousands of magical creatures and witches and warlocks.   
Magic always needed a safe haven, where it could be collected and distributed to the world again. Like a filter. A heart, if you want to call it that. To pump it back into the world like blood. It's an important cycle. Magic IS kind of like blood to the world.  
Merlin here, he IS the heart. He keeps the cycle alive. Or rather, he should.

Everything magic goes through him. When a sorcerer dies, Merlin is the one who collects the magic. Until he can spread it out to the world again.   
That's what he's supposed to do.”   
Arthur's eyes widened.   
Hunith took a deep breath. 

“Merlin never had any friends as a child. They were scared of his powers. He forced himself not to use them, so they would talk to him. Play with him. He kept denying he had magic ever since. Eventually he started believing that magic was just something other people talked about as a joke. To explain the unexplainable. I've tried reasoning with him many times. So did Will, so did all of us. But he always deflects it. He doesn't want this destiny. He doesn't want to be special. He just wants normal friends, a normal – temporary life.

So he kept everything to himself as much as he could, while growing up. He's convinced that this is normal. He DOES use magic here and there. But compared to all the magic in the world that is DYING at the same time, his little parlor tricks are no relief for the sheer mass on magic drawn to him. 

At some point, THIS happened for the first time.”, she pointed at Merlin. Who was still fidgeting, like he was having some kind of seizure.   
Maybe that's what it was. His movements were small, but frantic and Arthur feared that any moment, he may fall of the table and hit his head on the cold stone floor. 

“Uther has killed many people. And all the magic is building up inside of him. Without an outlet, he's loosing control over himself. He once blew up half the village.”, she sighed painfully.

Arthur's head snapped back to her. “So you mean – he's a time bomb?”  
Hunith smiled humorlessly.   
“Kind of. But that's not the worst of it.”, she took a deep breath. 

Arthur tilted his head. What could be worse than THAT?  
“Has your father ever mentioned to you how the farmers have less and less crops every year? How water is getting shorter?  
Have you ever noticed how the people around you get meaner? More illnesses spread and people start hating each other more and more?  
How many sorcerer's do you think were actually sorcerers? How many were accused innocently?  
How much less children are born? How many more people die sooner than they should?”

Arthur had no answer to this. He shook his head. He never really... focused on any of this. He had been too busy with his own destiny. But now that she said it … death rates had gotten higher. Birth rates decreased steadily over the years. And his father told them to keep their food in check more and more often...

“Have you ever heard of the saying 'miracle of life'?”

Arthur nodded slowly. This saying did sound familiar. It was often used, when a child was born. Which – he couldn't remember happening in a long time.   
Now that he thought about it.... there was an awful lack of children in the entire kingdom. Even here, in Ealdor... he hadn't seen a child younger than ten years old. If at all.  
“Life is magic too, Arthur. And just like magic, it is channeled through Merlin. As is love, as is – literally anything that makes you feel wonder and kindness and beauty.   
Merlin isn't channeling any of it. He's -”, she shook her head in shame. 

“He's bottling it up.”, Arthur said quietly.

“Yes. He must have reached the limit now. That's why he's like this. He will wake up again. He always does. But he needs to accept that he has magic.   
He NEEDS to understand it! And you are the only one who can make him see sense.  
Merlin is not going to die. But if he keeps this up, everything else is.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally reached a point again where I have absolutely no idea what's going on. And it is FANTASTIC! I'm not writing this. The demon possessing me just sometimes whispers to me and tells me what's about to come. I'm reading this as much as you are.... seriously.  
> I love it. I want to know what happens next XD
> 
> By the way....   
> I just realized that Excalibur's inscriptions: Draw me close, cast me away....  
> make so much sense, when you connect it to the Merlin is the heart of magic theory. 
> 
> Also: small unimportant announcement in the notes below regarding 'the eternal suffering'
> 
> FOR NOW: ENJOY  
> -Rai

It was hot. The sun, that is. It was burning from the sky, and any second the leafs could be catching fire. Berries and flowers dried out almost instantly. And everything that lived tried to hide somewhere inside.   
Oh. Yes. It was also snowing.   
Cold, wet, freezing snow. The air pulsating with an energy that was hardly ever seen on earth or beyond. 

In the very center of the chaos, waves of color pulsated from the house that harbored the immortal warlock. Known by the name of Emrys.   
Everything beyond a small circle of the house was absolutely colorless.   
Everything alive suffered. 

Arthur had never felt so normal under so dire circumstances. Hunith on the other hand – she was bound to her chair at this point.   
Her pupils widened with every color wave that washed over them.   
It didn't look pleasant … more like whatever feelings she was receiving from Merlin were overwhelmingly powerful.   
Arthur could only imagine how it felt on the other side: beyond their magic bubble, where grays and black dominated the lands. Color completely drained from the wastelands. 

“It will be over soon.”, Hunith repeated like a mantra to herself. Like she had felt this before.   
She probably had. “We will be fine. It'll be over soon. Not much longer.”  
But Arthur couldn't remember a single day where the world had drained so much in such a short time. 

“How long will this last?”, Arthur whispered. For what felt like the seventh time in the past couple of hours.   
“A day. Maybe two.”, she closed her eyes.   
Merlin was still lying on the table. His eyes flickering gold, and his skin seeming to melt under all the power that he radiated.   
Arthur stared down at him. 

And once more he wondered.... 'why am I not affected?'  
It was true. Arthur could not feel the waves of power. It was like they washed over him, caressing his skin gently like a breeze of wind, before disappearing.   
Maybe the colors he saw were even more intense in Hunith's eyes?   
He shook his head and went to change the cold patched on Hunith's face. She was sweating almost as uncontrollably as Merlin was.   
So Arthur – as the only one capable of moving a muscle – went from person to person and checked if they were still breathing. 

It had begun in the early morning hours.   
All of a sudden, Merlin let out a war cry and it felt like the entire world was falling apart.  
Soon enough, Arthur could hear people starting to panic. Might as well be the end of the world, they must have been thinking, upon seeing children collapse. No power or energy left for them to move any more than two or three steps before they fell where they used to play only moments before.  
It was apocalyptic.

If Arthur hadn't known that SOMETHING was bound to happen due to Merlin's ridiculous state of mind... he would have panicked too.   
Truth be told – he panicked anyway. Not even the best TED talk could prepare you for a complete shut down of LIFE. Because that is what this was.   
A complete and utter SHUT down.

The people outside the Castle were practically dead. Their heart beats faintly small and hard to make out. Their breathing shallow and if Arthur hadn't checked with his sword (the way he checked on Merlin's breathing a day ago), he would have believed them so. Everyone was unconscious. And Arthur hoped they were all just sleeping and would wake up as soon as Merlin had calmed down. 

Well – everyone passed out except for one person. Hunith – being in the middle of the magic bubble – received a full blown wave of life and existence and was now having something that resembled an epileptic shock. That however – was a wild guess comparison – as Arthur was no physician. He couldn't say for certain what she was going through. 

Hopefully – hopefully – all of this was just temporary.   
For the time being, Arthur could do nothing more than help where he knew what to do.   
He may be the future king of Camelot – but god damn it – he had never been responsible for so many lives before...  
Not in such a direct sense anyway.   
He knew he wouldn't be able to help everyone. But he tried to get the villagers back inside their houses at least. The villagers who had collapsed outside the houses in the middle of the chaos that was brutal heat and freezing snow.  
That too – had taken hours. Hours in which Arthur only now and then went back to check up on his best friend and his best friend's mother.

“Someone -”, Hunith muttered under her breath and Arthur had to strain his ears to even notice her faint whispering.   
“Someone?”, he asked, hurrying to cool her head even more.   
“Someone must have died.”, She choked out. “Someone powerful. Last time this happened -”, she inhaled sharply.   
“Last time, A fairy queen had died. And her entire tribe with her. Thousands of powerful creatures – wiped out by bandits who stumbled upon their nest.   
Merlin was fifteen.”

Arthur swallowed on the lump in his throat.   
“Who?”, he asked.   
“Only Merlin..”, she didn't finish her sentence, as another wave of color hit her and knocked her out completely for at least another ten minutes. THIS was how long it took the first time.   
Not that Arthur had much time to measure.

He hissed in a breath. There was literally nothing he could do. But he knew what she had tried to say.   
Slowly, he made his way over to Merlin. 'Only Merlin can tell you. Only Merlin knows.'

“Merlin.”, Arthur whispered carefully and wiped of some of the sweat on Merlin's forehead.   
Merlin's golden eyes flickered open.   
“Hey, prat.”, came the weak reply.   
“You're finally awake, huh?”, Arthur muttered worriedly. If still relieved to finally see some actual life signs.... that weren't signs of LIFE.  
Merlin had been unresponsive for most of the day. Only now and then he could tell Arthur whether or not he felt hot or cold or tired or in pain. 

Neither of which Merlin ever seemed to know the answer to.   
Where was Gaius when they needed him?

“Am I sick?”, he asked and blinked slowly. Eyelids half closed.   
But something at the sight of Arthur seemed to calm him down. There was a weird rush of power running passed Arthur and he could feel the world grow a bit colder. Maybe the attack was wearing down?

“Your magic is acting up. You've bottled it up for too long.”, Arthur tried to explain. But knew at the same time, that Merlin was in no way or form capable of understanding or accepting what Arthur was saying.   
“Nonsense. I have no magic.”, Merlin whispered weakly and closed his glowing eyes. 

“Merlin.”, Arthur's own voice came out strained.   
'You're literally killing everyone you LOVE, you idiot!' Arthur shivered at the thought. It was bad enough that HE was in charge now. The responsibility added to his own panic at the whole situation made things even worse.   
How Arthur managed it all – even he couldn't say for sure.

Merlin didn't respond. So Arthur tried again by shaking Merlin awake again.   
“Merlin, someone died. Do you know who it is?”

Merlin's eyes blinked away in confusion. “Dead? Who is dead?”, he asked and closed his eyes again.   
Arthur let out a frustrated breath. “Someone with much magical power, apparently.”  
“Magic does not -”  
“Someone who has been very very much alive.” Maybe Merlin would get THAT at least.   
Maybe – Arthur just shouldn't use the word magic. Words were unimportant anyway. As long as Merlin understood what Arthur was trying to say.

“SO much life.”, Merlin repeated half consciously. Clearly he was only hanging to the one or other word that Arthur spoke. Not making coherent connections though.  
“Yes, Merlin. Who is it? Who died?”  
Now tears were running down Merlin's face. And then , like a dam had broke: he roared.   
The difference between the absolute silence and the sudden rumbling noise was so powerful, Arthur staggered and fell backwards against the next wall. A dump sound, followed by Arthur's own wince added to the sudden noise – making Hunith shudder in her overexcited state.

Arthur slumped down the wall to the cold ground, where slowly but steadily, flowers and grass was beginning to grow. And wilt and die and grow again. 

And that's when Arthur knew.   
Merlin's incoherent screams aside – those cries – those powerful waves weren't caused just by anyone's death.   
Those incoherent screams were words – actual words in the tongue of the Dragon's. There was only one thing this could mean. 

Merlin's own kin had passed.   
The last of their kind. Kilgarrah .  
The great dragon – last of their noble breed – gone. Dead. Merlin was a Dragon Lord without a Dragon.   
The power and life of a thousands year old creature returned to him. The life of hundreds of generations that were previously stored within the mind and consciousness of Kilgarrah – now rushing into Merlin's already strained magic container.   
No wonder he was overloading. 

The thing is – and this is an important factor – the container that Merlin was could burst.   
It could. But it wasn't build to last in a broken state.   
It healed itself. It 'adjusted' to the bigger and bigger amounts of magic that it had to hold.   
When Merlin was a child – the death of a mere sorcerer would cause small outbursts. Such in which Hunith was overwhelmed by the sheer life force that was pumped into her. This is the reason why she knows how this feels. Though Arthur would argue that this was probably the worst outburst yet. 

Never before had the world lost it's color.   
You could see it in the distance – where the cloudless sky grayed and trees – once dark green – turned black and started to wilt on their own.   
You could see buildings collapsing. 

Only outside this house, where slow waves of magic roared the now gray world to color and death to life – Arthur understood the extent of Merlin's – 'situation'. 

When Merlin came to Camelot – his container had already been big enough to adapt to the life of a magical creature.   
That doesn't mean these outbursts never happened in Camelot as well. They were just on a much much smaller scale. 

(Now that Arthur thought about it... maybe he had seen Merlin stumble and crash here and there and for a brief moment, the paintings around him lost their colors, before suddenly looking more vibrant than ever. Or had that been a trick of the light?)

And since he was used to using magic to do his chores, used it to unconsciously safe Arthur's life and do his daily tasks – small amounts of magic were released back into the world.   
Which is why these outbursts had never had such a heavy impact on Camelot. If they happened at all.   
Camelot was – in the strangest sense you could imagine – the safest place for magic. 

There was more. Since Arthur never killed the unicorn – and got himself informed by Gaius before heading out for each other magical creature he ever faced, much less magic had been put on Merlin's conscience.   
Less people died – because Arthur learned what he had to do to CALM the creatures down. Instead of killing them.   
Which never failed to make Merlin smile. 

If it hadn't been for Kilgarrah's death – maybe Merlin could have lasted much … much longer. 

How Kilgarrah had died however – that was a question Arthur couldn't fathom to answer. Maybe Uther had finally found a way to kill powerful creatures.   
But what was powerful enough to....  
Arthur froze in his thoughts. 

Suddenly his vision was dizzy.

Then he stood up, to grab for his sword – which he had hidden behind the entrance door to Hunith's and Merlin's home.   
He unsheathed it. And sheathed it again.   
He blinked. And repeated the process.   
Merlin had packed his bag. Merlin – as his servant – had packed their stuff so they would be prepared to leave for Ealdor. After all – Merlin knew his home better than anyone. 

The sword was a fancy one. A golden hilt, deep, powerful engravings that said 'for the love of Camelot'.   
This... Arthur realized with dawning realization..... was not what he had expected to read. 

He had expected to read “draw me close – cast me away”.   
In the magic language of course.   
But this sword ….   
This sword was not Excalibur. 

Arthur's eyes widened with utter and complete horror.   
This.... all of this....  
All of this was Arthur's fault!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to those of you who are reading the entire series..... I am thinking of making a new series for Leon and George. Their dynamic has so much potential and I kind of want to explore their friendship a bit more. From different angles, like I'm doing in the Merlin's magic series with mostly Merthur.  
> So... this is a small heads up. Because I don't want to continue the one shot I wrote about them before. I want more One shots :)  
> Especially, since I can say that I basically helped invent them. At least I think so. They are my children now. I have a responsibility. The tag Leon & George didn't seem to exist before and I haven't heard ANYONE discuss their potential or even a consideration of a combination of their talents until AFTER I wrote the story. AO3 didn't KNOW them. So sad, seriously.  
> Now I have found an entire blog who I think started the conversation around the same time as I did.   
> I am invested now XD  
> The eternal suffering will soon be part of a second series then. Where I won't focus too much on Merlin and Arthur, but probably more on the knights and their relationships with servants. And ... as I said.... mostly Leon and George cooperating to keep Camelot alive. Because we all know.... it's actually them who protect Camelot... LMAO!!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy.   
> I did it again D:

FLASHBACK

“To create a life, another must be taken.”

Uther's heart broke at the words of the witch. Nimueh – once the trusted court sorceress – had betrayed him. Betrayed him so deeply, he couldn't move. Nor fathom how to respond to everything she did.   
Ygraine lay within the royal chambers, her blood still staining the sheets after she had given birth to Arthur. Their son. 

“Why hers?”, was all Uther managed to breathe out. The air within his lungs constricted and faltered. 

“The choice wasn't mine.”, Nimueh closed her eyes. “Magic takes only equal value. You cannot replace a horse with a fly. And so you cannot have a son in exchange for anything less than his mother. The only life you value just as deeply.”

“You swore -”

“I warned you. I have warned you countless of times. But you play with magic like a child with fire. Don't you dare lecture me on magic! I have studied it for centuries.   
But you – oh you think for you – there are no consequences. You think you are the exception to everything.  
You cannot blame me for your wrongdoings!” Nimueh's voice was dark and demanding. Laced with the knowledge of hundreds of years of intense practice and studying.   
Nimueh was old. And tired of the voices of men who cared not for her warnings.   
She had seen enough. She had done too much. She had too many regrets.   
Ygraine didn't deserve this.   
Had she known what she would unleash – maybe she would have made more conscious choices.   
She had assumed that Uther wasn't capable of love. That he cared only for himself. And his legacy. She had expected Uther to die instead.   
She should have known. 

“I offered you anything you wanted!”, Uther's voice grew louder.   
“I offered you hundreds of lives! I offered you dozens of kingdoms! You have betrayed me, Nimueh. You have betrayed Camelot!”

“I did no such thing. And it is not your choice who may die for your son. It cannot be just any life to give birth to him, -”

There was a rumbling sound in the distance that let Uther and Nimueh snap around in an instant. Rushing, like his own life depended on it, Gaius crashed through the wooden doors of the chambers.   
The lifeless corpse of Ygraine staring at nothing. Uncared for – because the king had demanded privacy to replace his grief with nothing but anger. Instead of caring for her funeral. 

“The prince -”, Gaius was breathing heavily.   
“Gaius? What is it? How is my son?”, Uther met Gaius half way. He was anxious. Gaius was panicking himself. 

“My lord – I am afraid your son is -”

Uther's eyes widened, as did Nimueh's.   
“He's not dead. TELL ME HE'S NOT DEAD!”, Uther screamed at him. He had lost too much to loose him too. The price he had paid for Arthur -   
The price Ygraine had paid – was too high.

“He's dying, Sire.”, Gaius's eyes were wide with pain and fear. Uther's eyes stared into Gaius. His worst fears coming true. And without any word, he stormed passed his court physician to the room that would later become Arthur's chambers. 

In a small crib, the child lay. He hadn't screamed since he entered the world. His eyes were dark and untelling. His breathing too shallow to promise a healthy future.   
“No...”  
Uther's world was shattering, his dreams running through his fingers. His son, his only son -  
“We have to save him. How -”

“I don't know, Sire.”, Gaius said and his eyes were glazing with unshed tears. Despite all the anger that Uther radiated – Gaius knew what it felt like to loose a son.   
“But I might know someone who does.”

\--------------------------------------------------

Uther had stood in front of a dragon only once before. Their kind was already at the brink of extinction.   
Truth be told, Uther wasn't very familiar with their customs, their behavior or their power. But the wisdom of the Dragon's was spoken of highly within the private circles of the druids.

The Dragon Uther once stood before had told him about a dystopia. A future where magic was hunted and destroyed. And the Dragon had claimed that Uther himself would be the cause for it.   
Back then he had not understood.   
He had declined this future. Sworn to never let it come true.

Now he wasn't so sure anymore. 

The Dragon before him was called the Great Dragon Kilgharrah. He was the oldest and wisest among the Dragon's.   
And if Uther wasn't so beyond fear and panic, he would have been annoyed by him.   
The riddles were nothing but needless frustrations. 

“Your son needs magic to survive, Uther Pendragon.”, the Dragon said. And – as usual – held nothing to his personality but riddles and confusing promises.

“My wife has already died for him. What more does magic want?”, Uther shouted into the clear night sky. Back in the Castle – servants and maids cleaned up Ygraine's last resting place. And build her a coffin, so she could be buried within the castle vaults. Like the beautiful Queen that she was deserved.

“Your son is a special one. He is the once and future king. He is born of magic. And only magic can keep him alive.   
When magic finally finds it's rightful vessel, Arthur will be the one to direct it and bring it back to the world. To create a brighter – better and more loving future.”, the Dragon spoke calmly, but Uther didn't understand.  
How could he?

“My son is dying NOW! I cannot wait for this magic vessel! How can you promise me a future for my son, when he might not make it through the night!”

“Arthur will live. But you need to expose him to magic. Until Emrys arrives in Camelot, he has to bath in it. Magic must be given to him, or else he will die.”

Uther's heart dropped. “How many lives do I have to offer for my son?”, he asked, but the Dragon just looked at him comically.   
“You have no power over life and death – Uther Pendragon. And you hold no power over magic either. You cannot will your son back to life – you have to -”

“I will offer as many lives as it takes.”

He didn't leave Kilgharrah with any more chances to answer or comment.   
Because Uther thought that he knew what Kilgharrah meant. He had been told about the horrors he would bring to this land...  
He had never thought there was anything worth the price. 

He closed his eyes, inhaling fresh air through his nose. 

He didn't want to listen to any more of this. 

\---------------------------------------

Only magic could save his son. But magic had caused this. Magic was at fault for everything. Uther Pendragon was powerless.   
So he did the only thing he knew.   
He researched for magical objects that could bind magic. That could absorb it and store it.   
He found a silver ring in one of Gaius's old magic books. 

He let the books be burned after. To make sure that nobody would ever find out how to kill Arthur.   
Uther would protect him. Nobody would have the means to hurt him.   
And so he put the ring around Arthur's neck.   
Soon after, magic was made illegal, punishable by death. 

It didn't take long for the first person to die.   
Only Gaius – the man who knew how to perform the rituals for Arthur – the only man Uther trusted with this secret – would be an exception to these punishments. 

When Arthur opened his eyes that day – they shone with life.   
And he cried.   
Nobody said it were happy cries. 

\----------------------------------------  
FLASHBACK END

“There are no sorcerer's left, my lord.”, Gaius said, only days after Arthur had left.   
“I have warned you, Sire. Too many lives have been taken at once. You should have kept it slow. Your son -”

“I don't want to hear it.”, Uther was breathing heavily. Panic evident in his voice.  
“He's been gone for two days already!  
What if something happens to him?”  
Uther was mad. He had been mad ever since Ygraine died. But now he was going insane.   
His son had left him. The son he had paid such a high price for.   
Ygraine – all of magic – all magical creatures he could think of. 

And he could understand the blame that Arthur had held for him.   
But how could he protect another sorcerer? How could he protect this child? After all that magic costs. All that magic had done and made Uther suffer?  
This boy might save Arthur's life, if he just died. Like the other sorcerer's had.   
Like the magical creatures had. 

Was Arthur starting to hurt now? How would Uther know if it was time for a burning again?  
A storm was coming up.

Was this a sign? Was it?  
If it was – whose life had he spared yet? 

“Sire, Arthur has always survived. He survived weeks on end without a sacrifice. ESPECIALLY, since Merlin came to Camelot and started using magic.”

“The boy is using up all the magic that Arthur needs to survive! He is harnessing it, Gaius! He may be your ward, but if he kills my son – I swear -”  
Uther was shivering. He felt numb. But the numbness came from suppressing his fears for too long.   
There was so much fear and terror in his eyes.   
Frustration and panic.   
Magic could only take and take and take. Arthur would die and it was all magic's fault. 

“All these years ago, you told me that Kilgharrah mentioned a vessel of magic -”

“Kilgharrah.”, Uther's eyes were wide.   
“Of course. The Dragon. We need to kill the Dragon.”

Gaius blinked, eyes wide in horror. Uther was a mess. A shadow of himself. He looked older and wild and absolutely broken as a king and as a father.   
“No mortal blade can kill a Dragon.”  
“I have to try. I HAVE to try!”, Uther shouted and without looking back at Gaius, he ran to the armory.   
There – shining brightly and beautifully in the sunlight, stood Arthur's best sword.   
A sword beyond compare. Only the best sword would be worthy of killing such a beast.   
A monster, a magical devil.   
And this one was perfectly balanced. Light. Beautiful. Worthy.   
It was this sword that would kill the mighty Dragon. This sword, that would pierce Kilgharrah's heart.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest... I am not 100% happy with this chapter.   
> But I'm fairy certain it's the last one anyway D:   
> Not that I couldn't continue... I just think this story is told now. Who cares about Uther and Kilgharrah ... pfff. Uther will rott in hell, with Kilgharrah riddling him to insanity and Morgana takes the crown. Merlin and Arthur live happily ever after. As they should.  
> If it makes sense or not.... I have no idea.   
> But I will warn you: 
> 
> FLUFF AHEAD!!!!!!!!!!! So much fluff.... you're literally going to feel the stuff between your teeth. Sugar rush is coming. (Sorry, my mind is a bit fuzzy. Been up since 4, worked 8 hours, drove for two and went swimming for another two. Then I had to draw something for inktober and now I am writing this.   
> I feel EXHAUSTED XD In a good - productive way :)) Anyway... everything is funny to me right now ^^ 
> 
> Have fun with the FINAL chapter (unless my mind decides NOPE... we need more. Which it usually never does)

Arthur closed his eyes and tried to ignore the tremor in his bones.   
“It's not my fault.”, he said finally, breathing in. Breathing out.   
“Everyone could have made this mistake. Everybody could have mistaken this sword for Excalibur. They are almost identical, apart from the inscription.”  
He took another deep breath.  
“It's Uther's fault.”

He opened his eyes, staring into the gray scaled landscape in the distance.   
The magic was still pulsating around him. In a way it felt like he could hear his own blood rushing through his ears. His heart beat pulsing through his fingertips.   
But it was the world around him that was beating and pulsating quietly. And yet – so so loudly. 

“Uther did this. Uther killed the Dragon. NO ONE else would even attempt to do such a thing!”, Arthur growled, rage narrowing his eyes to a murderous frown.   
'He's not my father. Not anymore. I don't care if I have to give up the crown to Morgana.   
But his reign has to end. HE has to STOP!', he thought to himself.   
And he wasn't surprised that even in his own mind – he couldn't call this man his father anymore. 

Arthur stared ahead into the darkness.   
He had replayed this conversation multiple times. And every time his rage and hatred against Uther Pendragon seemed to rise even more than last time.   
A long time ago, he had considered forgiving his father for all his wrongdoings.   
There was no hesitation in Arthur, as he declined his mind this offer now.   
This – this was too much. 

He didn't know what Uther was doing this for. But no man was worth the entire mankind. No living creature was worth the destruction of magic. The death of a loved one.   
No power in this world was worth the destruction that Uther's decision's had caused. 

It has been two days. Hunith had been wrong. Merlin's magic wasn't calming down.   
Quite the opposite, really. The colorless world got bigger and darker.   
And the small bubble of intense color got brighter and more colorful. And seemed to be shrinking in to it's center. Alias Merlin.

Hunith was long outside the barrier. She hadn't moved an inch but the grays finally washed over her and she immediately fell unconscious. 

Merlin however – he was the only colorful thing in a world of utter nothingness. 

Well.... not quite. Not just Merlin.  
Arthur too. 

And that was a strange little riddle, wasn't it? How was it that Arthur Pendragon was neither affected by the colorful nor the colorless? He was sitting here, barely outside the bubble, feeling completely normal.

How was Camelot faring? Arthur looked at his hands. Hatred making him feel nauseous.   
In a fit - a man with only questions and no answers tended to rage and get frustrated – he threw away the royal seal that marked him the crown prince of Camelot. It bounced of the wall right beside the window he had been looking through.  
The silver ring he'd had since he was a child. The symbol of the Pendragon's – ironically a Dragon – embedded into it. The he didn't know kept him alive.   
Kept his magic levels neutral. Collected magic if he needed more to survive, or kept it even, if he already had enough. 

…...

All of a sudden, Arthur choked.   
It was – like he forgot how to breathe. Actively forgetting how to breathe. His hand rushed to his throat in panic, his eyes widening in shock.   
Try to breathe out, hold your breath and then breath in without letting air pass your lungs. It feels like a vacuum on your ribs, a strain in your throat and an electrifying sensation spreading through the back of your head the longer you hold your breath. That... just stronger is how Arthur felt.  
The thing is that Arthur could not control his air ways. Instead, black dots started playing in front of his mind. He couldn't speak, could get out no tone, except a troubled screeching sound.   
What feels okay for a few seconds, becomes painful and outright torturous the longer it goes on. 

Until Arthur felt like life itself was leaving him. Arthur bent forwards on to his knees – about to collapse, because his brain got no oxygen. And for barely a few seconds – he knew his heart stopped beating. He knew – because the pulse that throbbed through his fingers stopped. He felt like he was going to fall into nothingness.

And then - a wave of colorful magic rushed through him. Caught him.

Arthur gasped for air – his lungs suddenly reactivating after they had shut down for merely a few moments. His eyes – blinded by these black dots– finally regaining the ability to see color in an intensity that could have caused him a seizure, but luckily didn't.   
His nose noticing smells he had never smelled before in his entire life.   
His ears – deafened by the silence of the town – suddenly hearing every single thing that this world still had to offer.   
He could hear Merlin breathing only two meters next to him.

All his senses were suddenly overly sharp and sensitive. Every touch of the frozen snow that by now even fell inside the hut, burning on his skin – every sweat from the heat of white colorless sun that shone through the dirty window, like acid on his skin. 

Arthur felt everything in such an intensity that he had to throw up. He threw up color in the grayish white of the snow.   
Arthur's skin was tanned. A light tan – barely visible – but yet very noticeable for the usually pale nobleman that he was. Noticeable only, because just a moment before – when he through away the ring – they had turned just as ashen as his vision.   
Now... now they were colorful. He might as well have painted them in rainbow colors.

When finally Arthur's mind and heart calmed down – he noticed that something was significantly different right now.

The magic around him seemed to be grasping for something. Someone. Him. 

Arthur blinked, still breathing heavily. After all – just a few seconds ago he had been certain he was dead.   
He didn't need to reach out to the magic. Not really. It had already broken down the walls that kept his own emotions in check. 

Had already filled him with life and amplified his feelings.   
But it was peaceful and kind and warm and welcome.   
There was no malice in this feeling. Arthur had never felt this loved by anyone. Not even his father. Especially not his father. 

Uther's emotions had always been something else. What it was – Arthur couldn't tell. But he knew – this magic was of a pure nature.   
This was unexplainable magic.   
And Arthur needed it. He felt like a starving child who just found food paradise.   
A thirsting man who had somehow found the life saving oasis. 

Arthur didn't have it in him to resist, so he breathed in the magic. The magic that was already filling up his senses, his heart, his mind. He let it in to his pores, absorbed it and let it heal his wounds.   
Small cuts and bruises he got from carrying villagers around healed shut – like they had never been there.   
And his mental rage against his father turned to acceptance and blissful ignorance. 

All his confusion suddenly turned to understanding. 

Arthur opened his eyes and looked at Merlin, whose eyes were miraculously open.   
“Arthur?”, he muttered under his breath. He probably didn't know what he was doing. Or where he was. Or how he got here. But he could feel the connection to Arthur.   
Arthur laughed. He had been so stupid.   
Of COURSE, Arthur was the key to this all. How had he not seen this before? It was so simple. Their relationship. So... SO simple.

He walked over, closer to the table Merlin rested on. Arthur was still wobbly on his knees, but he was alive at least. 

“Arthur?”, Merlin repeated, lazily opening and closing his eyes, because he couldn't bear to keep them open.   
Arthur grabbed for Merlin's hand and brought it up to his lips. Gently, he pressed a kiss to Merlin's roughed fingers.   
Merlin's eyes widened and with it – a wave of color rushed through Arthur and the world. And Arthur knew that outside – even if just for a moment – for one wave – magic was reviving the world. 

“What are you doing?”, Merlin whispered and Arthur could tell that this man was trying to reel his emotions back in.   
He could feel it by the way the magic rushed back into the bubble, trying and failing to leave Arthur as well. But Merlin couldn't take the magic from Arthur. 

Magic was directly linked to Merlin's emotions. Merlin's emotions WERE the magic. Emotions with POWER.   
And Merlin loved Arthur.   
That was not a feeling he could control. Nor was it one he could fake or deny. It was a force more terrifying than any magic Arthur had ever faced. And twice as beautiful as it was terrifying.

Arthur may be oblivious – but he literally wouldn't be alive without Merlin. He could FEEL it, could feel how it brought him to life. 

And this is where I have to explain the flashback from the previous chapter.   
Neither Uther nor Gaius would question it again and Arthur didn't remember because he was a baby, but you need to know why Arthur was dying when he was a child. And why exactly Uther's reaction was so horribly wrong and utterly stupid and unnecessary.   
The magic Arthur needed to live was very simple, actually. Love. Just that. Just love.

If Uther had given him that – unconditional, fatherly love – not the tainted, broken, hurt version of it that came with the rage and fear of loosing his wife – Arthur would have lived. He would have never fallen ill to begin with.

With time maybe – if Uther had learned to accept his grief and moved on– Arthur would have healed slowly as well.   
Arthur's health was linked to Uther's emotions. Because Uther was his father. And because Uther was the one who caused Ygraine's sacrifice. And Uther's magic were his emotions for his loved ones. Because his emotions were the only magic he possessed.  
The love that kept Arthur alive was selfish, fear, anger, pain, grief, hatred. It was hunger for power and ignorance of the weak. It was pride and egoism. And that made Arthur sick.   
Arthur was right. All of this – literally everything – was Uther's fault.   
Rejecting him as his father – rejecting the ring – rejecting his heritage – freed him from this bond to Uther and his toxic love.   
It exposed him to a much more beautiful and powerful one.

“Merlin. It's ok.”, Arthur said. But he didn't really know what he said that for.   
Merlin had seemed fine before all this went down.   
Or maybe he didn't. 

Maybe – Arthur's talk about emotions in the woods made Merlin conscious of his feelings. Maybe it made him ashamed. Maybe it made him hide them. Because that's what we all do when we're hurt and afraid – right? We deny our feelings. Maybe that's why Merlin is reeling back his magic. Because Arthur never gave him a clear answer about his feelings. And Merlin was afraid he'd be rejected by his best friend.

“You seem different.”, Merlin said instead of addressing the non-question that Arthur put between them. Then he chuckled, as he watched Arthur's expression. Merlin's starved torso rose with every single laugh. Somehow it is harder to laugh on your back than it is when you sit or stand.   
“What is it, prat? Finally admitting that you do like me? Because you know... you just kissed my hand. I'm not a royal lady for you to court, Sire. I'm not going to swoon at your feet.”  
The word 'Sire' came out as sarcasm. 

But it made Arthur smile anyway.   
“I know. But I admit it. I do like you.”  
Another wave of color hit the world and made his smile widen even further.   
Merlin's half opened eyes shot up completely. His shoulder rising to his ears in shock at the confession. 

Of course it was this simple to save the world. It's just how fairy tales work, isn't it?

“I must be sick.”, Merlin mumbled to himself, unknowing and unaware that he had been sleeping and sweating for two days straight.   
“You were. Your magic has been acting up for a few days. You knocked out a few people. You know... the usual stuff.”, Arthur shook his head, knowing exactly what Merlin was going to say next. 

“How many times do I have to say it, Arthur? I don't have -”

Arthur didn't care that the sweat on Merlin's face was now sticking to his own hair and his hands – he kissed him anyway.   
Merlin – completely caught of guard – gasped into the kiss. But he didn't push Arthur away.   
Instead – he melted into it and Arthur could hear and feel the magic bleeding out of Merlin.   
Like a heartbeat it pushed magic back into the ground, melting the snow and cooling the sun. 

Outside, you could hear confused people regaining consciousness. Inside, Hunith slowly woke up from her two very polarizing experiences. With full blown magic overload and complete magic abstinence.   
You could see color filling the gray scales of landscape. Sounds returned, and plants began to sprout from within the hut to outside. 

Arthur and Merlin however, were completely oblivious to this, as Merlin just reached up his hand to feel Arthur's face. Just to hold on to something, before he could fully respond to the kiss. 

When they finally broke apart, it was merely inches that distanced them.   
They didn't say anything, because honestly – their actions spoke for themselves. 

For minutes there was silence. Until someone HAD to break it. Of course, it had to be Merlin.

“I still don't have magic.”, Merlin finally said, very seriously staring into Arthur's eyes.   
Arthur breathed in a hearty laugh. “Of course you don't.”, he shook his head in utter disbelief.   
Then he looked back at Merlin with a soft smile. Then into Merlin's deep blue eyes, that kept flashing golden, because he was still reviving the world. 

And then Arthur's heart clenched, as he he began to grasp something. As he thought he might finally understand.  
Maybe the prophecy was wrong. Maybe, Merlin never needed Arthur's help to understand magic.   
Merlin had always been true to himself. Merlin always knew who he was. He never pretended to be someone he wasn't.   
He denied himself knowledge about himself, yes. He denied his own power.... but the denial was just as much part of him as the power itself was. 

What if, deep down... the reason why Merlin decided he didn't have magic was – because he had already given his power a different name?  
What if Merlin had always known that magic was nothing but love? Love for the world around him?  
Love for the people around him? His actions, his protectiveness.  
For animals. Camelot, his friends. Arthur. 

Or maybe that's why the prophecy said that Arthur needed to help him UNDERSTAND magic. Not make him realize that's who he was. Or learn the extends of it. Or how to control it. Or teach him how to use it.  
Maybe – in truth – Arthur had begun explaining magic to Merlin the day they met.   
Had shown him that love existed in different ways. Had protected him, regardless of his status. Appreciated him despite his insufferable incompetence as manservant.   
Had loved him in spite of -  
actually – Arthur couldn't think of anything that would ever make him not love Merlin.

Maybe Arthur had taught him that he was loved. Maybe he had taught Merlin that the people who used to bully Merlin for his gentle heart were complete idiots?  
That Merlin was actually stronger and wiser because he was true to his heart?

And maybe – maybe he just needed Arthur to tell him that he was allowed to love him. Fully, and unconditionally too. 

Because when Merlin understood that he was allowed to love fearlessly, that he was allowed to love ARTHUR without any restrictions – then he could love everything and everyone else as well.   
Love for one person goes beyond. It makes you appreciate the world that gifted you with them. It dims out the hatred you could be feeling instead.

If Merlin collected magic, stored it, compressed it into a thin line of light, then Arthur was the sphere, the glass shard that made the light break into thousand rays of rainbow.  
Together, they brought color to the world. And life. And love. 

Merlin understood magic. Maybe better than anyone else did. 

“Is everything okay?”, Merlin asked, eyes still wide. But Arthur had been quiet for a few minutes, their distance never widening, nor them getting closer again. 

Arthur shook his head, nothing but fondness in his tone when he said:   
“Yeah. No. I just realized what an actual idiot you are.”


End file.
